


Locked

by TheSprout



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Beaubâtons!Yuri, Blood, Dumstrang!Otabek, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Mentions of love at first sight, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Triwizard Tournament, otayuri - Freeform, side dish of Victuuri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2018-12-20 02:16:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11911125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSprout/pseuds/TheSprout
Summary: Otabek Altin is selected to represent Dumstrang in the Triwizard Tournament. In the euphoria of the news he feels like he needs to be alone. Or almost.Yuri decides to support a student that is not from Beaubâtons during the Tournament. He gets a little bit too involved.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I wrote this for a tumblr post where someone asked for Beaubâtons Yuri and Dumstrang Otabek, and I couldn't help but have Yuri swear in my mother tongue, so pardon his French (and this terrible joke).
> 
>  
> 
> For the drabble purposes let's imagine that the tournament takes place every year.

Otabek’s heart is pounding when he hears his name. He is going to represent his school and his country in the Triwizard Tournament. He is shaking when he walks in front of the crowd, shaking when the Hogwarts headmaster gives instructions, shaking when his friends lift him up like a king to celebrate. Oh, he is proud to be worthy of such an honor, and determined he will win for his school, but when his feet finally touch the ground again he can only think of one thing. He needs to be alone.

In the hallway he jostles his way between the Dumstrang students, ends up almost squatting to hide in the waves of their capes. The crowd blocks the way and when they start jumping in rhythm and singing their anthem Otabek falls against a wall. He is about to be trampled by his friends when he sees the handle of a door just above his head. He reaches up and yanks, and his heart swells when he realizes that the door is not locked. He crawls inside and closes behind him, this time turning the lock and finally sitting on the floor, resting against the door frame. A chuckle of relief escapes him when the noise of the crowd fades in his ear and he closes his eyes as he lets his head fall back.

“DÉGAGE!” _Go away_

Otabek comes out of his short bliss and looks around him. He is in the restrooms. From where he sits he cannot see who just yelled at him. He stands up and tilts his head to try and see around the center pillar surrounded by the sinks. He does not take a step, not wiling to get screamed at again.

“VA T’EN BORDEL!” _Get the fuck out_

Otabek raises his eyebrows at the energy the Beauxbâtons student puts to shout at someone he does not know. He could have been a friend or even a teacher walking in, and yet the other one does not seem to care.

Otabek takes a step back when his mysterious student appears from behind the pillar. If the French had not betrayed him his looks sure cannot lie. That is a Beauxbâtons student, alright.

It’s a young man, probably just old enough to participate in the tournament. He is not very tall and his figure is remarkably slim. The silky blue shirt of his uniform is out of his pants, the sleeves are rolled up just under his elbows and two buttons are open down his neck. His forearms and his wrists are so thin and delicate they look like they could break if someone held his hand too strongly. His light blond hair hides a part of his face and Otabek can only see one of his eyes, a bright green pupil looking at him with murderous instincts. His skin is pale as marble but his cheek is red and glimmering wet.

“GET LOST!” the young man screams again, “Do you understand that!?”

There is something in Otabek’s heart that makes him glad the door is blocked by the crowd.

“Sorry,” Otabek says, “I tried to escape the crowd… I was selected to represent Dumstrang.”

The young man looks at him and his anger seems to double. He turns away and growls as he wipes his face with his hand.

“Génial, good for you, now leave me alone!” he snaps, and his voice breaks as he takes in a sharp breath.

“I can’t,” Otabek says.

No, he cannot leave this student cry alone in the restrooms. He has only known him for a minute but now he feels involved.

“I can’t,” he repeats, “The hallway is blocked.”

He hears the other student mumble for himself.

« Putain mais c’est pas possible un jour pareil et maintenant ce crétin mais qu’est-ce que j’ai fait pour mériter ça bordel »  _For fuck's sake what a shit day how is this even possible and now this dumbass what the fuck did I do to deserve this?_

Otabek watches him walk to the opposite wall and slide down against it to sit on the floor. He himself sits back against the door. There is a long moment of silence as they listen to the muffled sounds of the crowd outside of the room.

“So you’ve been selected, hn?” the young man asks.

Otabek nods solemnly.

“I can’t believe they choose Victor,” the blond says bitterly, “he is fucking dense.”

“The cup must have seen things you don’t know about him.”

“He is older than me that’s all,” he spits.

“Next time it will be you then.”

The younger one sniffs and hides his face in his knees. After a moment he looks up again.

“How does it feel? I heard they had dragons back in the days, and mermaids.”

Otabek chuckles. He has heard the same stories, and every time they get more impressive and more incredible. As if someone would believe Harry Potter had actually been chased in the air by a dragon while the headmasters just stood there, enjoying the show.

“I’m nervous but there are new rules,” Otabek says, “The only thing that could be badly hurt is my honor I guess.”

“Your family will be watching you?”

“They are on their way. We were told to send an owl just after being selected.”

“They must be proud.”

“Your family will be too when you get selected next year.”

The blond man bites his lips and a big tear rolls down his face. Otabek waits silently, watching the fragile body repress a sob, the long fingers rub the eyelids, and he feels his heart tighten when the young man runs a hand in his hair and his full face is revealed to the light. At this moment Otabek understands that he will not allow any more sorrow to weigh on such graceful traits. The sadness in his eyes, the quivering of his lips, no, none of this can be tolerated.

“I don’t think...” the young man says, “I don’t think my grandpa will be there next time.”

Now Otabek understands. Why the other one wanted to participate this year. Why the idea of taking part next time does not ease his pain.

“My family they…” he continues, “They are Moldus or whatever they call that here, they are not wizards.”

Otabek keeps a neutral face and hides his surprise. He is himself from a long and respected line of wizards and was always fascinated by these people who were raised as Muggles and one day had to step in a whole new world and prove their worth.

“They kinda kicked me out when the cat started to talk,” the other one explains. “Not gonna lie that was cool, he was fucking sassy. But whatever, my grandpa… He doesn’t understand shit in magic but he believes in me.”

Otabek observes for a moment the faint smile on the lips in front of him. Absolute beauty.

“He is old and sick… I don’t know if he’ll make it to the next tournament.”

“If you are selected next year I’ll support you,” Otabek says, uncaring that he is a complete stranger and that his offer is plain ridiculous compared to the loss of a loved one.

The other one looks at him for a while. He does not ask if it is correct to support someone from another school. He does not ask why he would decide to cheer for a stranger he has never even seen cast a spell.

“I don’t want to support Victor,” he eventually says, “and the Hogwarts champion looks like a piglet, that’s gross.”

Otabek smiles. He stands up and walks up to the young man. He offers his hand to help him up. They keep holding hands even when they do not need to anymore.

“I’m Otabek.”

“Cool. Yuri.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is very self-indulgent, I write this when I can't progress on a more 'serious' victuuri fic I'm writing. I'll stick to short chapters and slices of story, I hope you enjoy it anyway.

Otabek keeps his head down as he walks back to his dorm. His limbs hurt but it is nothing compared to the ache in his chest. His cheeks are burning with shame, his throat is painfully tight and his fists clenched. He is not sure he will have the strength to walk across the Dumstrang common room to reach his dorm.

The first task was an absolute disaster. Otabek almost passed out when he walked out of the tent and found himself face to face with an actual dragon. The rest of the task was pure survival. He forgot about the instructions he had been given, he stood paralyzed for two whole minutes while the crowd booed him and then gave the most pathetic fight in the history of the tournament. He lost a shoe as he ran for his life and eventually triggered the dragon with badly cast spells, so much so that the event had to be temporally interrupted to keep the beast under control. His score is humiliating.

He hugs the walls and his cape flows behind him as he skitters down the hallway. He is almost there when he hears footsteps coming in his direction. Whoever it is he does not want to see them. He does not want to see anybody. Not for several years.

He knows he has hit rock bottom when he cowardly throws himself in the nearest broom cupboard and holds his breath as he waits for the footsteps to fade.

To his deep consternation it never happens. The soft sound of the shoes stops right in front of the cupboard and Otabek’s blood freezes in his veins when the door trembles on its hinges in a deafening shock.

He watches the door swing open and his muscles stiffen as he takes in the silhouette in front of him. The man keeps his head down but Otabek instantly knows. The bond hair. The skinny arms. He wears a dark blue blazer over his shirt and his waist is so thin Otabek feels like he needs to wrap an arm around it to support him.

Yuri gives a tilt of the head and starts walking. When Otabek does not move he stops and yells above his shoulder.

“Come on!”

It is an order. Otabek stumbles out of the cupboard and follows him silently. He stops when they reach the north tower, the one that was given to the Beauxbâtons delegation for the duration of the tournament.

Yuri sees that Otabek has stopped. He pulls him by the sleeve.

“Everybody is in the great hall to celebrate, we’ll be alone,” he says.

Otabek lets himself be dragged in. The common room has large windows and blue drapes that fall from the ceiling and flow in silky waves on the parquet. Everything is just woodwork, velvet, and embroidery. Several mirrors show him a distraught young man in a red cloak. Yuri leads him to the dorm and gets him to sit on the four-poster bed. Otabek can’t help but wonder how the tiny student manages not to drown in the large blankets, pillows, and comforters.

To Otabek’s relief Yuri was right. All the Beauxbâtons students have left their tower to celebrate their victory and the end of the first task, the dorm is empty.

Yuri is angry. His jaw is clenched as he kneels at the end of his bed to fumble in his trunk. He takes out a jar and throws it at Otabek bitterly, almost purposely aiming at his head.

“You left without going to the infirmary,” Yuri says, each word sharp and accusing.

Otabek does not answer. After the fiasco he could not stand the idea of being pampered by a nurse. He feared he might get insulted by the other students if he stayed, or worse, be told that it was okay and that what mattered was that he had done his best. He had left the tent with his cuts and burns, the feeling of his blistered skin against his torn clothes, and the piercing pain he deserved.

The jar is old and the orange paste it contains smells acrid.

“How did you get this?” Otabek asks as he recognizes the ointment.  

“Long story. I wanted Murtlap tentacles but I got caught. The chubby teacher. Herbology dude... Buttlong-something. Cool guy. He gave me this.”

Otabek takes off his cape and unbutton his cuffs. He dips his fingers in the paste and applies it to the knuckles of his other hand where the skin is burnt raw. It is like soaking his hand in icy water. He cannot help but let out a small sigh of relief.

“You really fucked up,” Yuri says as he sits cross-legged on the bed.

“I didn’t think they would have dragons… again. I thought I was going to die,” Otabek confesses.

“Yeah me too.”

Otabek struggles to roll up his sleeve without smearing the paste on his clothes. He shivers when thin white fingers pinch the hem around his wrist and brush past his forearm as they fold the fabric of his shirt on itself.

“You should be congratulating Victor with the others,” Otabek says.

“He cheated,” Yuri shrugs.

“What?”

“He is half-veela and he did his dancing shit to numb the dragon.”

“A male veela?” Otabek asks, incredulous.

“Only half-blooded, but he goes full harpy if you steal his shampoo. I almost fucking died for soft and nourished locks last semester,” Yuri whines as he lets himself fall back on the mattress and stretches his slender arms above his head. “He’s powerful though,” he adds reluctantly, “veela aren’t supposed to be able to bewitch other species than humans.”

Otabek feels like he has missed something. Someone must have forgotten to tell him he would have to fight mythical creatures and half-human students. He becomes painfully aware of his own banality.

“I should withdraw,” he says blandly.

Yuri looks up and supports his upper body on his elbows.

“Like hell you will.”

“I’m not up to it. I’m not like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like the guy who makes puppy eyes to fight a dragon…” Otabek says as he covers his face with his hands, “I just got roasted like a sausage…”

He is startled when he hears a grumpy voice behind the bed.

« T’avais raison c’est un vrai crétin. » _You were right he’s a true moron._

Otabek jumps in panic and turns to see who has interrupted their conversation. He was convinced they were alone, he fears someone has heard his miserable complains.

“Told you so, Toulouse…” Yuri sighs, unfazed.

And Otabek rubs his face with his hand in disbelief as he watches an old and fluffy cat hop on the bed and settle on Yuri’s belly. He purrs and yawns ostensibly when Yuri scratches his head.

“You’re not even halfway through the thing,” Yuri says, “Maybe Victor will die during the second task. Imagine if they re-do the mermaid thing like they did the dragons. Sure thing the dumbass can’t seduce the giant squid underwater.”

“Who told you there was a giant squid?”

“The Slytherins.”

“What about the Hogwarts champion?” Otabek continues, “He did almost as well as Victor and he didn’t use any special power.”

“He is crippled by anxiety,” Yuri says, “I heard he got help before the task, he was barely able to get out from under his blankets.”

Otabek closes his eyes and breathes deeply. The burns on his hands and forearms have cooled down. Yuri’s words echo in his mind pleasantly. The young man did not scream at him but he was not condescending either. He almost has hope for the next task. Otabek wishes he could stay here. After the grueling tension of the morning he feels surprisingly at ease in this dorm that is not his, this school he does not know and this foreign country.

« Il va rester là longtemps ? » the cat grumbles. _How long exactly is he gonna stay there?_

« Aussi longtemps qu’il veut, » Yuri breathes. _As long as he wants._

“Thank you for this,” Otabek eventually says as he closes the jar of orange paste.

“Keep it. I know you have burns on your legs.” And before Otabek can accept, he adds: “For the time you cheered me up. We’re even now.”

Otabek pauses. Yuri is lying on his back, supporting his head with one arm and petting his cat quietly with the other. Otabek looks at them and Yuri does not look up, pensively watching his fingers disappear in the thick fur of the cat as they brush its back.

He stands up and this time Yuri looks at him, he seems surprised.

“I should go,” Otabek says, “You wouldn’t want to be seen with another school’s champion in your dorm.”

« Hé ben c’était bref, » Toulouse yawns. _Well that was short._

Otabek is already out the door and does not hear any more of the magical grumbles of the cat, or the incomprehensible answer Yuri might have given him. He practically runs in the hallway. He feels utterly stupid. How did he even believe it was anything else than that? He was wrong, so wrong, because for Yuri it is nothing more than that, the polite return of a favor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Veela!Victor has apparently been done by Reiya and I did not know (I only read the rival series), I just stumbled on this on tumblr, I hope (s)he does not get mad.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, here is a longer chapter, although it's still more of a stress relief drabble than anything.
> 
> Hope you enjoy :)

Otabek sticks his fork in a sausage and chews silently as he reads the Daily Prophet sports pages with sleepy eyes. The next task is scheduled in a week and they still have not received any kind of information about it, not even the hour or the meeting point. He tries to drown his anxiety in a pile of hash browns and a poorly written game report.

Owls fly in the great hall to bring the mail and Otabek watches a little blue bird flutter around his head and land on the tip of his fork. Looking at it more carefully he realizes that it is not an actual bird but a meticulous origami made of light blue silk paper. He catches it before his friends can see it and unfolds it on his knees under the table. The pressure of the quill on the paper is strong but the letters are thin and elegantly rounded, in flagrant mismatch with the words they form.

“Get your ass in the bathroom at noon.”

Somehow Otabek does not need a signature to know who sent the message and in which bathroom he is supposed to show up. His heart races. Maybe he was mistaken about Yuri’s intentions.

He forgets about the second task for a few hours and leaves his last morning class without waiting for the teacher to give assignments.

 

“You know, I’m pretty sure this is the girls’ bathroom,” Otabek says after closing the door behind him.

Yuri is sitting on the edge of the sink, legs balancing freely under him, the hem of his pants pulled up and revealing thin ankles as he draws circles in the air with the tip of his shoes. It appears that the Beauxbâtons uniform features a dark blue waistcoat, and Yuri wears it over his usual blue shirt of which he has casually rolled up the sleeves.

“Maybe but it’s haunted, nobody ever comes in,” he says.

“Doesn’t look haunted to me,” Otabek shrugs.

“Sshhh you’ll upset her and she’ll be a pain in the ass. Oh wait shit,” Yuri whispers as he claps a hand against his mouth. He waits anxiously for a few seconds as if he tried to hear something coming and eventually relaxes.

“So,” he resumes, “anything about the second task?”

“We have not been given any indication.”

Yuri rolls his eyes.

“Of course but did you look into it? Did you ask other people like older students?”

Otabek feels suddenly utterly stupid. It is most likely part of the task to investigate beforehand and arrive prepared, it would explain the complete lack of news since the end of the first task.

“Look, I don’t know a lot because it looks pretty dark and, not that it creeps me out or anything, but I’d rather not deal with this kind of stuff,” Yuri begins. “Apparently there is a prison in the middle of the sea where they keep all kinds of crazy people. Last week the number of guardians dropped, a few of them have gone missing. They are rumors that they have been seen in England a couple of days ago.”

“They quit their job?” Otabek asks.

“I… I don’t think they are normal guardians, they could be… creatures or something,” Yuri shivers, “I didn’t ask, I’d have looked like a dumbass.”

“Wouldn’t they publish a public warning if there were dangerous creatures on the run?” Otabek wonders out loud, recalling his early reading of the morning paper.

“That’s the thing. No one is freaking out. Some students deduced that they have been purposely brought into the country… for the tournament.”

Otabek pauses. It makes sense.

“How do you know about this? Did Victor tell you?”

“No, I think he knows because he’s been losing his hair like crazy since Friday, but I heard it from the Slytherins.”

“Are they even reliable?”

Yuri shifts on the sink and appears briefly uneasy.

“There might be one or two of them who have an uncle or a grand-father in there. They get their information straight from inside the prison.”

“You really need to stop hanging out with them.”

“Well at least they aren’t disgustingly naive and mushy like my delegation around Victor.”

Otabek’s heart suddenly feels blissfully light. He will go to the library, read about these creatures, and practice the defense charms he will find over the weekend. He will be safe.

 

Otabek drags his hands down his face so harshly his skin hurts. He has checked five different books and there is no possible mistake. The guardians of the prison are dementors. Deadly and terrifying dementors. He has had a brief moment of clarity where he had started to look for repulsive spells, certain he could master a couple of them by the end of the week but then again he fell short on luck. The Patronus is documented as a very advanced spell, that requires both a great power and experience, and can only be achieved in its complete form after months of practice. Otabek falls asleep on his books, drooling on a bright picture of a deer.

 

The next morning he finds comfort in logical thinking and decides that, since there is only one charm that can be used and he cannot avoid the task altogether, he had better practice and try to minimize the damages. He checks out three books about defensive charms and dark creatures and finds an empty classroom. When he is tired of reading he lies on the floor and wonders what his happiest memory could be.

Surely it is something with his family. A summer with his sisters in their garden. Maybe his first broomstick when he was seven. Or the day he was finally called to study at Dumstrang after not showing a sign of magic for eleven years. The time Bulgaria won the Quidditch World Cup maybe, but it is tainted by the sickening recollection of his first massive hangover. The first time he kissed a girl is definitely not his best memory, he blames it on his lack of experience although he has since then never tried to get more practice.

He focuses on a week of holiday by the lake with his family, the summer before his beginning at Dumstrang. He remembers how excited he was to finally be a wizard, and how he had enjoyed the sun and the water. Even his father, who is always so stern and taciturn, had come to play with his children by the pontoon.

Otabek’s heart beats strong and he smiles as he sees his mother reading under a parasol. He knows he got his looks and attitude from his father, but he is certain that the way his emotions echo vividly in his body can only come from his mother.

He stands up and he feels ready. He points his wand in front of him and pronounces clearly : “Expecto Patronum!”

Nothing happens. He barely feels his wand vibrate between his fingers. Not even the slightest trace of a cloud, not a silver sparkle. He tries again but has lost his focus. He sits down and read the instructions again. With an unreasonable effort of concentration, he eventually manages to create a glimmering white swirl at the tip of his wand. He looks at the time. If he had to give an estimation he would say that he would surely be able to form a corporeal Patronus in a few months.

He tries again the next day, and the day after. On the third day he can produce a silver smoke with each try but he has only managed to make a small could two times. He thinks about his family again. He does not want to disappoint them. He imagines how proud they would be if he won. His next attempt is slightly better. He imagines how happy Yuri would be if he won. He creates a full silver cloud.

 

Otabek waits for Yuri at the end of his class. Yuri walks out of the classroom with two other students and stops when he sees Otabek leaning against a pillar.

« Allez-y j’vous rejoins, » he mutters. _Go without me, I’ll see you later._

 When his friend stays with a questioning look he growls.

« Georgie tu veux ma photo? Barre-toi! » _Georgie what are you staring at? get lost!_

The other student glares at him but follows the crowd down the hallway.

“I know what the creatures are,” Otabek says, and Yuri pretends not to be too excited. “Dementors.”

Yuri opens wide green eyes. His cheeks pale and his neck stiffens. Otabek thinks it is confusion.

“They are like putrefied skeletons covered with black capes and their face…”

“I know what a fucking dementor is,” Yuri cuts dryly.

“Can you make a Patronus?”

“I can make a small shield but not the whole thing,” Yuri says, “I hope it’ll be a cat though, maybe a ragdoll,” he adds for himself.

“I can barely make a shield, I don’t think it’ll be enough.”

“Victor can produce a corporeal Patronus. He bragged about how cute it was after his exams last semester. I’ve never seen it but he could find a ghoul attractive if he had created it himself.”

“Is there anything he can’t do?”

“He’s five years older than you. He’s so old he can’t remember shit. I’ve found him five times at the door of the common room because he forgot the password. One time he was naked.”

Otabek winces. He wants to cover Yuri’s eyes and give Victor a good kick.

“Listen, you don’t have to support me again,” he says, “you know Victor is going to be successful, and I really can’t tell if I’ll be able to do any better than last time. Don’t waste your time.”

“I’d rather support the piglet,” Yuri complains. “The Hufflepuffs are kind of dumb but like… rather… nice. Unlike the Gryffindors who are stupid and fucking obnoxious on top of that.”

“I swear you’re never going in the dungeon again, they’re brainwashing you.”

“Potter’s son was a Slytherin you know.”

“And Potter was a Gryffindor you’re not making any…”

Otabek stops when he sees that Yuri has stopped listening to look over his shoulder.

“Wait, that’s Mila,” the younger one says, “I gotta go! See you!”

Yuri steps on his toes, raises his chin and, so lightly and briefly it could have been a breath, he lets his lips touch Otabek’s cheek. Before Otabek can move Yuri is gone.

 

That night Otabek lies awake in his bed and wonders if he dreamt the feeling on his cheek and if it means anything at all. He has seen Beauxbâtons students greet each other with two, three, sometimes four kisses on the cheeks but it never actually looked like what Yuri had done. And Otabek is sure he has never seen two male students greet each other like that.

 

On the next Friday the students are asked to stay in their dormitories as a preparation for the second task that will take place Saturday afternoon in the Quidditch field. The night is surprisingly cold and dark.

 

When Otabek enters the Quidditch arena he feels like the life is leaking out of him. One minute ago he was motivated and focused but now everything is just deep sadness and overwhelming despair. It seems that the only thing that can comfort him is the thought of a very close and relieving death.

He tries to produce a Patronus but only creates a feeble swirl.

He looks around him with dull eyes. The field is surrounded by a Patronus barrier to protect the crowd, trapping him under a ceiling of circling dementors. There are maybe ten of them. They fly down slowly but surely, feeding on Otabek’s last emotions, catching any warm feeling before it blooms.

He makes a couple of new attempts but only gets a shifting cloud.

Otabek sees the colors of the students through the silver shield. There is a bright red dot in the blue stand of the Beauxbâtons delegation. A student in a sweater, with a hood pulled over his head and his hands pushed in the front pocket. Otabek smiles. He does not want to die so soon. He focuses.

“Expecto Patronum!”

There is a silver light that seems to get brighter and brighter even when Otabek closes his eyes to avoid being blinded. His wand shakes in his hands and he knows something went wrong. He hides his face in the crook of his elbow but the glow is too intense, and when he turns to look away he stumbles and falls. He loses his wand and the light around him disappears. On all four and looking at the ground he curses under his breath. His palms are riddled with bits of rocks and the attendance is silent in consternation. He catches his breath and admits his defeat. He feels the warm and soothing envelop of the teachers’ Patronuses and rolls to the side to sit on the ground. He feels drained.

He looks at the crowd. They look dumbfounded. Nobody says anything, nobody moves, and Otabek almost wants to laugh knowing that he failed so bad he managed to silence the whole stadium.

He sees Yuri. His hood came off and his hair is messy, but what catches Otabek’s sight are his eyes. They are absolutely giant. His mouth is slightly open but his eyes look comically disproportionate compared to his pointy cheekbones and his tiny nose.

Someone claps. The sound echoes in the arena. A second person follows. Two others. Soon the whole attendance cheers loudly. The Dumstrang students chant their joy louder than anyone else.

Otabek runs a hand in his hair in confusion. Something far away in front of him catches his eye. A shiny flutter. One of the Patronuses is moving toward him. It is still on the other side of the field but Otabek can see that it is a very large beast, a wolf maybe or a bear. He sits on the ground paralyzed as the bright creature walks up to him slowly. He watches wide paws press softly on the dirt, powerful shoulders roll with each step and a long tail balance behind it. It is a couple of feet away and realization hits Otabek like a truck.

The beast lies next to him and he feels safe and happy like never before. It is his own Patronus. A Siberian tiger.

 

It is late when Otabek finally gets an opportunity to sneak out of the Dumstrang common room, where the muggle-borns convinced everyone to blast “Eye of the tiger” for three hours straight. He walks silently to the north tower, unsure of what he is going to do or if he will even be able to see who he wants to see. It looks like Yuri has had the same idea, they meet in the spiral staircase in front of a narrow window. Yuri is walking down and he stops two steps up from Otabek.

“I’ve got bad news,” Yuri says seriously, “Victor didn’t die. The good news is that his Patronus is ridiculous.”

“And Yuuri?”

Yuri shakes his head down bitterly.

“He fainted,” he says. “He tried to form a shield but the dementors flew closer, it looked like he tried to say something but then he blacked out. The funny thing is that the first Patronus to protect him was Victor’s poodle. As if the teachers were not good enough, what a dumbass.”

Otabek watches the smile on Yuri’s lips and the way the moonlight reflects on his skin.

“You lied to me,” Yuri says softly as he walks down a step and leans back against the stone wall.

Otabek raises an eyebrow.

“You said you couldn’t make a Patronus and then you pull off a giant tiger.”

“I had never done that before,” Otabek says as he walks up the last steps between them.

Yuri has a small shrug. He is resting against the wall and he keeps his hand in the small of his back.

“I guess you found something that makes you happy then,” Yuri whispers, and he tilts his head back, letting his hair slide away from his face and allowing the pale glow of the night to light up his soft traits.

Of all the things that could be said about Otabek, him being impulsive is certainly not one. That is mostly the reason why he does not understand what drives him when he sees himself place a hand on the cold stone above Yuri’s shoulder and lean forward. No, nothing can explain why his brain freezes and yet he does not stop until he can feel Yuri’s lips against his. It is barely a touch, the fleeting taste of a caress, but it is without doubt the best thing Otabek has ever felt.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small update :)
> 
> For whatever reason the Yule ball takes places after the second task. It has nothing to do with the fact that I had forgotten about it because I'm the shame of the Harry Potter fandom. 
> 
> Please keep in mind that I just like to be creative with the AU in these drabbles, this work is not to be taken too seriously. Not that anything I write is serious but just so you know...
> 
> Enjoy!

“Who will Victor go with?” Otabek asks.

They are in the Dumstrang common room. The dark velvet of the sofa is worn but the heavy cushions are especially comfortable.

It is two weeks before the Yule ball and everybody in the castle talks about it, even the dead. There are giggly groups of girls in the hallways, plotting boys at the lunch tables and romantic paper planes flying in the classrooms. Otabek knows he has to open the ball with the other champions but so far, he will be dancing alone.

“He found a girl,” Yuri says from the other side of the couch. It is Saturday and he is not wearing his uniform. The back of his blue sweater is embroidered with the Beauxbâtons coat of arms, but his dark jeans are tight and ripped at the knees. “She’s a Gryffindor, but I swear she’s part Veela as well. They did their Veela shit like it was a contest or something. Wazlib or Weasel, what’s her name? Whatever.”

“And Yuuri?”

“Literally all the girls are after him but he’s fucking oblivious, I don’t think he’s accepted to go with anybody yet.”

There is a silence between them. Otabek fears Yuri’s reaction but he needs to know, he asks anyway.

“Who will you go with?”

Their eyes meet and he sees it. That little flicker of reproach and disappointment. In a perfect world Otabek would take the opportunity to ask Yuri to be his date for the ball and Yuri would accept, but Otabek is the champion representing his school, and Dumstrang is old and conservative. He knows that he is being a coward, and that Yuri deserves someone who would be proud to dance with him at the ball, but he cannot bring himself to start a scandal when there is one task of the tournament left and he is still in the spotlights.

“Toulouse got me a date,” Yuri eventually says, half bitter, half embarrassed.

“Toulouse?”

“I found a new cat in my dorm. A Birman, fluffy as fuck. I petted its belly for like ten minutes before it morphed back into a girl,” he explains as he slowly shakes his head in consternation.

“What?”

“An Animagus. I had goddamn heart attack. She said she wanted to see who owned the talking cat.”

Otabek swallows uneasily. “Looks like the perfect girl for you,” he says as casually as he can.

“I know, right?” Yuri smiles. “Too bad she learned how to grow a tail and not a dick.”

Otabek cringes badly. No matter how many times he hears Yuri say obscenities, he does not get used to it and keeps picturing him as a sweet angel, oblivious to sin and depravity.

“What?” Yuri teases when he sees Otabek’s discomfort.

“Did you tell her?”

“Yeah, right after ‘Your paws look like jelly beans that’s fucking cute’,” Yuri rolls his eyes. “Toulouse told her,” he adds reluctantly, “we’re still going to the ball together.”

Otabek nods in understanding.

“What about you?” Yuri asks.

Otabek shakes his head.

“We don’t have a lot of girls in Dumstrang, and they’re all obsessed with Victor, or anybody who can speak French for that matter.”

“You could go with Mila," Yuri says pensively.

“Mila?”

“A girl in my school, about your age. She’s got a boyfriend back in France but she likes to dance.”

“Will you ask her?” Otabek asks hopefully.

“What? No! I’ll show you who she is but you’re on your own after that,” Yuri says with a smug smile.

Otabek grunts bitterly. “You’re going with your cat’s girlfriend so really…”

 

Mila kindly accepts to be his date for the ball. They chat for a few minutes, mostly about Yuri, and agree to go as friends, to Otabek’s great relief.

He cannot believe his luck when he lets Mila lead the move during the first waltz. She dances exceptionally well and even Victor cannot get the audience to look away from her. She could have been dancing with a scarecrow it would have been the same, the guests cannot see anything but her smile. Otabek follows her for a slow fox and she almost loses him in a tango before he thanks her and lets her find a more talented partner.

He sees Yuri at the beginning of the evening. His date is very pretty, though her cheeks have strange horizontal scars like painted cat whiskers. Yuri is prettier. His black tuxedo contrasts strongly with his white skin and his blond hair. The cut enhances his slim figure and makes him look taller. The strands of hair that usually hide his face are braided back and his cheekbones catch the light when he smiles. Otabek promises himself he will ask him for a dance before the end of the ball.

The Dumstrang students are already a few drinks ahead of him and Otabek gets salacious comments for dancing with the sexiest girl in the school. He himself tries not to drink too much since he is a champion and some teachers like to make small talk whenever they see him. It does not seem to be a problem for the Hogwarts champion though, since his shirt is already open all the way down, and he pulls off dance moves no one knew he could do and grinds against Victor like no one thought he would dare.

The music is loud and the party goes on late after the older teachers have left. The bow ties have long been discarded and the ball gowns soak in spilled drinks. Buzzed students chat at the tables, flushed girls tiptoe out of the room while holding her high heels in their hands.

Otabek is talking with his friends when he feels someone tug on his sleeve and turns around. He sees Yuri and he smiles, but only briefly. The young student is paler than usual if possible. The first button of his dress shirt is open and there is no trace of his waistcoat. The sleeves of his blazer are carelessly pushed up his forearms and the wrinkled hem of his shirt sleeves appear at his elbows. His hair is down, a braid and a pin still in it.

Yuri does not let Otabek’s sleeve go, holding on it firmly as to keep his balance. Otabek helps him stand straight when he leans a bit too far to the side.

“Yuri?”

Yuri frowns and tightens his grip on Otabek’s blazer.

“Are you alright?”

“I… Yeah.”

“What did you drink?”

“Orange juice.”

Otabek’s heart swells painfully. There is no orange juice at the bar, just a gigantic bowl of heavily sweetened punch, with orange slices floating on the rum.

“How...?”

“Victor said it was juice.”

Otabek’s jaw tightens but he forgets to be angry when Yuri’s face distorts and it looks like he is going to cry.

“J’me souviens plus où est mon dortoir,” he croaks. _I can’t remember where my dorm is._

Otabek does not understand but Yuri leans against him and his knees wobble dangerously. Otabek catches him and holds him around the waist to try and help him walk. He manages to get out of the ballroom but Yuri is making the move difficult as he trips over his own feet.

Otabek bites his lips. He feels like he should go to the infirmary but he has no clue where it could be, and he simply wants to find a quiet place and help Yuri lie down.

He looks left and right, the hallway is empty and the night is dark enough through the large windows. He glances at Yuri for a second, pinches his lip in a helpless moment of hesitation, and bends to lift him up like a tiny bride. Yuri protest weakly, “what the fuck are you doing”, but Otabek holds him tight. He feels slightly guilty knowing that Yuri would never let him carry him like that if he was not drunk, but nobody is there to see them, and so he just smiles quietly when Yuri sighs and lets his head fall on his shoulder.

“J’suis vraiment désolé, mais genre… vraiment…” _I’m really sorry, but like… really…_

Otabek walks slowly not to shake him too much and soon arrives at the bottom of the north tower. He tries to remember how Yuri opened the door when they went in the Beauxbâtons dorm together but curses himself when he cannot recall anything but Yuri’s face and his blond hair flying around his pink cheeks.

“I need the password,” he says softly.

Yuri shrugs feebly.

“Yuri come on, we’re almost there.”

“There’s no password.”

“Try to remember,” Otabek insists. His arms are getting tired despite Yuri’s light weight and he does not want to have to have to ask someone for the directions to the infirmary or to wait for another student to open the common room.

“Just ask,” Yuri whispers.

“You said Victor always forgot the password, what’s the password?”

“He’s a dumbass. Ask to open.”

Otabek feels extremely ridiculous when he looks at the stone wall and mutters: “Erm… Open the door please?”

“You’re a dumbass,” Yuri chuckles lightly. “Laisse nous entrer bordel…” _Let us in for fuck’s sake..._

The stones shake and the door opens slowly.

“You had to ask in French,” Otabek notes bitterly.

“Told you.”

 

Otabek lays Yuri on his bed carefully. Before he can straighten up Yuri grabs the front of his dress shirt and pulls him down in a kiss. It’s messy, it tastes like citrus and alcohol, and Otabek can feel him shiver against his lips. He takes Yuri’s fingers in his hand to free his shirt from his grip and pulls away. Yuri frowns.

“You don’t like me,” he grumbles as he falls in his pillow.

Otabek’s heart tightens. Yuri sighs softly, he is already out. His hair is spread out on the pillowcase and he quivers when Otabek runs a finger through the blond locks to undo a last braid.

On the way back to his own dorm Otabek takes advantage of the long and dark hallways to calm down and think quietly. Yuri’s scent lingers on his clothes. He remembers his Patronus and what he has read on the subject. He can almost hear his own heart beat in the silence of the night. For the first time he realizes how he actually feels and he understands there is no going back.

Yuri is right, Otabek does not like him. No, that would be a pitiful lie.

He loves him with all his heart.

 

 

The next morning Victor Nikiforov wakes up with a sweet hangover and a bright and painful bruise on his left cheekbone. To whoever asks he answers that he cannot remember a thing after he left the ballroom and that surely, he has walked into a door or tripped against a wall. Otabek’s knuckles are slightly sore, but he does not complain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Otayuri fluff without AU? [Here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12116415)!
> 
> Come and see me on [Tumblr](https://dontstopyurinow.tumblr.com/), I'd love to hear from you :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I'm feeling a tad down at the moment so here, have a bit of angsty Yuri. 
> 
> I think I'll have a new update this weekend if you're still interested in this thing.
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy this anyway :)

Spring in England comes chilly but sunny. Otabek sees Yuri after his classes. They go to Hogsmeade together on the weekends. When they are alone in the hallways they hold hands, they steal a peck on the lips in the staircase, a hug behind a large pillar. When the dorm is empty they close the curtains of the four-poster bed and kiss until they are both out of breath.

It is a whole new world for Otabek. Yuri is always angry and unpredictable, but when they are alone together he is like a soft kitten. He likes to cuddle, he enjoys naps, he chuckles when Otabek kisses his neck and practically purrs when he brushes his hair with his fingers. His porcelain skin has a light floral scent Otabek can only smell when he presses his nose against it to cover him in kisses.

 

“Have you been with a boy before?” Yuri asks one day as he faces Otabek on his pillow.

“I’ve kissed a girl once.”

“That’s all?”

Otabek nods.

“But you’re like… older…”

“So?”

“What were you waiting for?”

“The right person?”

 

As the weeks pass their games get messier and their lips more insistent. There is not a lot of words, it is often a look to ask for permission, a nod to consent, a small pause to give the other the time to say no, a light sigh to say yes.

When Otabek hesitates to open Yuri’s shirt Yuri undoes the first buttons himself. Otabek has already called him out on his eagerness but Yuri is only half embarrassed. They are both shirtless on the sheets, their legs tangled together and Otabek’s lips on Yuri’s collarbones when Yuri’s cat jumps through the curtains and settles to knead the pillow.

“Putain Toulouse dégage!” Yuri growls. _Fuck Toulouse go away!_

“Rhabille-toi, Georgie monte les escaliers,” Toulouse answers. _Get dressed, Georgie is walking up the stairs._

Over the past month Georgie has found Otabek and Yuri playing cards on the bed, practicing spells in storage rooms and calmly reading books behind the last shelf in the back of the library. He still wonders why Yuri needed Otabek to help him button up his uniform shirt in the boys’ restrooms but the tiny buttons and the silk fabric can sure be tricky. Victor has seen them send a letter together at the owlery and has asked what Otabek was doing in the Beauxbâtons bathroom when he was, obviously, following Yuri on a guided tour of the French dorm.

One Saturday all the Beauxbâtons students leave for a class excursion in London and Yuri manages to avoid it, claiming he does not feel well and would rather stay in bed. And he does, in fact, not leave his bed. Yuri is casually trying to unbuckle Otabek’s belt without really looking at what he is doing when he freezes.

“I heard something.”

Otabek sighs slightly and straightens to glance at the empty dorm through the curtains. He moves back to Yuri on the bed.

“It’s just a cat.”

Yuri frowns, pushes Otabek on the mattress and rises on his knees to look himself. He is just quick enough to see the fluffy tail of the Birman disappear under the next bed.

“What the fuck Suzy!” he shouts. “This is the boys’ dorm, I should have reported you the first time, get the fuck out!”

He lets himself fall back on the bed with a frustrated grunt.

“We need to find another place,” Otabek says softly.

“The Slytherins say there’s a hidden place under the sinks in the haunted bathroom.”

“I’ve always dreamt about doing it in the sewers.”

“Oh come on.”

“So wet and slippery…”

“Fuck you.”

“I wish.”

Yuri throws his pillow in Otabek’s face and grabs his shirt, ending their little conversation.

 

The third task is scheduled in a month and Otabek trains as often as he can. The Triwizard Tournament in Hogwarts traditionally ends with a labyrinth and he tries to learn as many defensive spells as he can. On the evenings he looks for an empty classroom, pushes the tables and the chairs out of the way and practices for hours. Yuri likes to watch his progress and sometimes helps him a bit, but categorically refuses to be disarmed or petrified. One time Otabek manages to convince him to duel to work on his reflexes, and Yuri spends the next half hour laughing on the floor because he was not quick enough to block a Tickling Charm. Otabek is red in embarrassment when he cannot remember how to stop the charm, or maybe it is because he has never seen Yuri laugh that much and it is far too beautiful for his profane eyes. When the effects fade Yuri lies on the parquet and has a tired sigh. “You’ll pay for this, Altin.”

The next week Yuri conjures a flock of blue birds and has them tear Otabek’s shirt to pieces.

In a moment of anxiety the Hogwarts champion has checked out all the books about Defense Against the Dark Arts available at the library and Otabek soon runs out of useful things he can learn in his textbooks. The Hogwarts teachers do not seem very willing to offer him their help until Yuri forces him to go and see the Herbology professor. Otabek insists it will be unhelpful but he eventually accepts, he might face ferocious plants in the maze after all.

To his great surprise the old teacher has an impressive collection of books on defensive spells and protection charms. He drops them in Otabek’s arms and cuts short his stuttered thanks with a wave of the hand.

“You kids are lucky not to know what war is like,” he mumbles. “Use them well.”

 

At breakfast one of Otabek’s friend throws a magazine at him over his bowl of porridge. The bright pink cover promises “Seventeen potions to lose five pounds in a day” and a “Secret list of sexy spells your man can’t resist.” Otabek’s heart races when the woman on the glossy frontpage winks at him. This looks like a terribly distasteful joke.

“Witch Weekly?” he asks with confusion.

“There’s an article about you,” his friend says with a jeering smile.

Otabek flips through the magazine nervously. Page twenty-one he finds a picture of his face, the official portrait taken after he was chosen to be the Dumstrang champion. It is surrounded by flickering glitter hearts and sparkles. The bold title shines in red curvy letters and makes his stomach twist. “Bulgarian champion Otabek Altin finds French love in Great Britain.” He feels light-headed and has to force himself to quickly read through the article. The column romanticizes a secret relationship between him and a mysterious petite blond girl he has met in Hogwarts. There’s a blurry shot of himself in Hogsmeade holding someone by the hand. A few strands of blond hair escape the hood of the Beauxbâtons cloak but only the tip of a pointy nose can be seen. Mila has been interviewed, she said she was not jealous since they went to the ball together as friends and she knew Otabek had feelings for someone else. He cannot help but sigh in relief.

His friend slumps heavily on the bench beside him and gives him a manly slap on the back.

“Ah man, I knew being the champion would get you laid… And a French girl on top of that? I bet she tells you dirty things in bed you don’t understand.”

Otabek keeps a mental count of the foreign swearwords he has learned since he has started dating Yuri.

“Kind of…” he smiles.

“That’s so unfair… You could have told us!”

“Nah, I’m keeping her for myself, she’s too pretty,” he says as he rolls the magazine and leaves the table.

Yuri’s fit of anger after being mistaken for a small girl is short-lived. He is absolutely delighted to watch the Beauxbâtons girls scratch each other’s eyes out to know who this secret girlfriend is, and which one of them is lying and keeping all the potential gossip for herself. At one point they even start saying that Victor’s date for the ball was blond and that she could have stolen his cloak, and the Gryffindor girls get fiercely involved in the drama to defend their friend. Soon every light-haired girl in the castle is subject to the jealousy of the others and has to provide a solid alibi for the day the picture was taken. A couple of girls try to get attention by pretending they are the unknown love interest and Yuri shakes his head when he hears rumors about Otabek’s chiseled abdominals and the large tiger tattoo he supposedly has on his back. The girls are so busy plotting against each other that none of them thinks about asking Otabek who he is dating.

 

The week before the task Otabek is walking out of the potion class when someone runs into him and makes him stumble on his feet. He is about to growl when he sees Yuri’s messy blond hair under his nose. He barely has time to smile before Yuri grabs his wrist and drags him away from the rest of his class. Otabek chuckles at his enthusiasm and resists to Yuri’s pull to stop him. He wants to hug him and ask him why he is in such a hurry when Yuri turns to face him and his hair fly around his face, revealing his red cheeks and wet lashes. Otabek frowns and follows Yuri without a word. When they arrive in the haunted bathroom Yuri locks the door behind them and rests again the wall to try and catch his breath.

“I was in the dungeon…” he says with difficulty.

Otabek clenches his jaw.

“I told you not to stay with them, what did they do to you?”

“Nothing… I just heard them talk…”

“About what?”

“The third task. It’s a maze.”

“It’s always a maze, we talked about it yesterday.”

“But the things they hide in it they…”

“Every year they have different creatures, I know that Yuri, I trained for that…” Otabek runs a hand in his hair in incomprehension.

“They filed a demand to the ministry to trade chimaera eggs six months ago,” Yuri says tensely.

“They try to find new ideas.”

“They imported a basilisk from eastern Europe, a full-sized basilisk.”

Otabek shrugs in a poor attempt to hide his discomfort. “Everything will be supervised, they won’t let these things roam free so close to the castle,” he tries to convince himself.

“They took criminals out of the sea prison,” Yuri adds quickly.

“Do you mean they will have us fight other wizards?...”

“Werewolves.”

Otabek swallows uneasily. There is a long silence between them. Yuri twitches nervously. He twists his long fingers together so roughly it looks painful. His breathing has not calmed down and his chest heaves irregularly, Otabek can almost hear his heart beat quicker than it should. Yuri bites his lip and paces in the bathroom, like he needs to say something he knows he should keep for himself.

“Don’t go,” he eventually says as he stops to face Otabek.

“What?”

“Don’t do it,” Yuri repeats.

“How?”

“Pretend that you’re sick, withdraw at the beginning of the task, say that you got lost after entering the maze and abandon.”

“I can’t do that, I’m representing my school…” Otabek says blandly.

“Who cares?” Yuri blurts with an irritated shrug.

“Yuri why…”

“Let Victor get eaten by the werewolves, save your life,” he begs.

“They won’t let anything like that happen…”

“People have died…”

“It was decades ago.”

“Please.”

His last word is a whisper and when he looks up at Otabek his eyes glimmer with tears. It takes every bit of willpower Otabek has not to give in immediately and hug him against his chest.

“Yuri I can’t do that,” he says seriously.

Otabek watches as Yuri lips quiver, he sees him shake his head and his expression changes in a face Otabek knows too well. His jaw tightens and his thin brows knit together.

“So that’s it?” Yuri spits bitterly. “I support you all year long, you fucking kiss me and then you go and you die?”

“No, that’s not...”

“I thought you cared!”

“I won’t die!”

“What if you do? WHAT WILL I DO?” Yuri shouts. He grips the front of his own shirt and his pale fingers turn white against the blue fabric.

“Yuri what?” Otabek is at a loss when big tears roll on Yuri’s cheeks and crash on the collar of his uniform.

“I TRUSTED YOU!” Yuri cries.

“I’m not leaving you!”

“You know what?” Yuri says between his clenched teeth as he trembles with rage. “I don’t give a shit if you die, it was a mistake anyway!”

“A mistake?” Otabek repeats dumbfounded.

“Va t'faire foutre!” _Go fuck yourself!_

The door slams behind him when he storms out of the bathroom and Otabek is left alone. Between the dripping taps and the clogged water pipes he remembers the day he met Yuri in this very place and his heart tightens achingly.

There is a giggle in the last toilet stall. Myrtle floats through the door and flies around Otabek with an exaggerated sad pout.

“I had a bet with Peeves that you two would break up before the end of the tournament. Looks like I won. Once you’re dead we can share the bathroom if you want.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More angsty Otayuri? [Gimme the drama!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12236478)
> 
> Join me on [Tumblr](https://dontstopyurinow.tumblr.com/)!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the tags for this chapter because this is pure, gratuitous, spooky angst. Sorry.
> 
>  
> 
> Enjoy!

The week passes by too fast for Otabek. He wakes up tired every morning, he eats breakfast without a word. He sits in class but pays so little attention that he needs someone to tell him when the period is over and he can put his books away. He does not practice spells anymore. Before he knows it, it is the night before the third task, and he lies in his bed unable to sleep.

Yuri has disappeared. Otabek has not seen him once since the bathroom door closed behind him. Georgie and Mila eat without him. No trace of his blond hair in the hallways. Otabek has caught himself staring at stray cats and hoping to see Toulouse. He has been tempted to enter the Beauxbâtons tower and go and find Yuri in his dorm, but he would not know what to say, and he doubt the stone door would open for a couple of swearwords.

It is almost four in the morning. The task is scheduled at dusk. Through the window of the dorm Otabek watches the round moon hide behind the clouds. Tomorrow it will be full.

 

None of the champion listens when they are given instructions before the task. Otabek barely even notices that someone is talking to him. He already knows the rules. He hopes he can stay alive until Victor finds the Triwizard Cup without having to send red sparks and be rescued.

One hour before sunset journalists invade the tent to take pictures of the champions and ask a few nosy questions.

“Mr. Altin, how are you feeling? Are you scared? Do you think you can win?”

_Terrible. Yes. No._

“Good. No. Definitely.”

The group photo is absolutely morbid. The Hogwarts champion is pale as a ghost, Victor has apparently not slept in over a week and Otabek’s throat is so tight he needs to breath very slowly not to throw up. Even the most enthusiastic photographer ends up putting his camera away, understanding that he will not get the proud picture he was expecting. The young men look like they have been sentenced to death and no one wants to see that on the front page.

The Minister for Magic makes an appearance once the press has left. He gloats several minutes over the perfect organization of the Tournament by the British Ministry of Sport, and pats Yuuri on the back as he tells him to make his country proud. He is obnoxiously oblivious to the champion’s crippling terror.

The first stars pierce the purple sky and Otabek knows the task can begin at any time. Victor paces in the tent, dragging his feet in the dust and tightening his fingers around his wand. Yuuri looks like he will pass out if he tries to stand up.

Otabek is sitting on a bench at the back of the pavilion. He feels so sick he cannot focus on anything but the knot in his stomach. His elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, he closes his eyes and tries to empty his mind.

He is startled when someone slaps the back of his head.

“I’ve been screaming your name for like ten minutes, are you fucking deaf?”

It is Yuri, sitting on the bench beside him.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Of all the things Otabek wishes he could tell Yuri, these are the only few words he manages to utter. He hates himself.

“I needed to tell you something,” Yuri says.

Otabek looks at him and sees the dark circles under his eyes. His forehead is marked with worried lines behind his blond hair. His cheeks are pale but his irises still shine under his thin lashes.

“I’m all ears.”

Yuri leans forward and presses his lips against Otabek’s. It is hot and aggressive. Otabek opens his mouth to gasp and Yuri deepens his kiss. He grasps the front of Otabek’s jersey and bites his lower lip before pulling away slightly. Their noses are only an inch apart and Otabek does not dare to move when Yuri’s grip tightens around the fabric of his shirt.

“Don’t you fucking dare die on me, Altin.”

Yuri’s voice is deep and his eyes are ice cold. Before Otabek can find words and remember to breath, Yuri steps over the bench and sneaks out between two flaps of the tent.

 

The students cheer loudly when the champions walk on the quidditch field. They line up in front of the high hedges and wait for the fanfare to stop playing. Otabek watches Victor turn to look at Yuuri. They walk up to each other and hug tightly for a few seconds. The crowd whispers. It fades when the two champions pull apart and walk back to their assigned spot.

The Headmaster of Hogwarts sends a loud jet of golden sparks in the air and Otabek walks in the maze with big steps. The hedges close behind him and the sounds of the crowd fade. The walls around him are high and the light of the full moon is dim. He thinks about lightening the tip of his wand but he is afraid to attract unwanted company. He walks up to the first junction where he stops and places his wand on his open hand to use it as a compass. He turns left.

The night gets darker and darker around him as he moves farther away from the entrance of the maze. He can barely see his own feet and so he walks slowly, brushing the hedge with his hand to know where he is going. He tries to be stealthy and prick up his ears to catch any incoming sound but everything is silent around him. The air is humid and the temperature drops gradually as time passes.

He feels like he has been walking alone for hours when he sees a light through the leafy walls. He quickly squats and raises his wand but the light does not move. He turns at the next intersection to see the bright dot properly. For a second he wonders if this could be the cup. Could it be so easy? Could he be that lucky? The light is warm and inviting. Keeping his wand in front of him, he takes a few steps forward. Nothing happens around him and so he keeps walking, not taking his eyes off the shining light at the end of the path. He frowns when his goal does not seem to get closer no matter how quickly he moves. He focuses and walks faster anyway, well determined to know what is at the end of the way.

Otabek flinches when a ray of light passes by his head and hits the luminous dot, creating a smoky grey cloud that vanishes immediately. He turns to see Yuuri standing beside him. Before he can ask anything Yuuri points the light of his wand to their feet. Their ankles are hidden in the mud. Otabek was so obsessed by the flickering light he had not realized he was sinking in a bog.

“Don’t you have Hinkypunks in Bulgaria?” Yuuri asks, slightly concerned. 

“…Thank you,” Otabek mutters.

“You’d have done the same for me.”

With that Yuuri turns off the tip of his wand and walks away, he disappears at the next turn and leaves Otabek alone in the dark night.

He sighs and opens his hand flat once again to find the right direction with his wand. He freezes when he sees the white swirls of his own breath in the air. He knows it is not cold enough for that. He does not need to turn around to know what is happening. He already feels like his heart aches with misery with every beat. He cannot recall having ever been happy in his life. It would be so easy to give up right now and enjoy the sweet relief of death.

There is only one dementor. Unable to think of a happy memory, Otabek focuses on the idea that he has already done that before, and that he knows he can push away several dementors at once. He only created a shield, but it’s strong enough for the creature to fly away.

Without thinking he starts running to put as much distance as possible between him and the dementor. In the night echoes a long howl. It is answered by one, two, three other howls in the distance. He runs faster. He trips on roots twice but gets up as quickly as he fell and keeps running. The mere idea of stopping to see a werewolf gives him chills.

When he takes a turn and sees a silhouette a few feet away in front of him he digs his heels in the soil, ready to run in the opposite direction. He has almost already turned back when there is a cry in the night.

“HELP!”

Otabek tenses. The thing he is trying to escape, it is Victor. He is on his knees in the mud, sobbing loudly, calling whoever can hear him with a broken voice.

Every part of Otabek’s body tells him that it is a trap and that he should run away. Paralyzed in his spot, he lights up the tip of his wand and points it toward the other champion. It reveals a form that was almost hidden in the dirt. He feels like he jumped in icy water.

Between them lies Yuuri’s body, pale and still, covered in dripping blood stains. His neck, his arms, and his side are savagely injured, the skin is freshly ripped open and the wet wounds reflect the white halo of Otabek’s wand. Blood pools on the ground under the gash in his neck and runs between the cods of earth. His glasses are broken on his nose. His face is already gray under the moon light.

Victor is biting his own hand to stop the terrible screams that escape his throat. He suffocates between sobs and spasms and Otabek watches him when he crawls to Yuuri to cradle him against his chest. Victor’s tears run on his cheeks and fall on Yuuri’s temple when Victor presses his lips in his hair like he has the power to bring him back to life.

Otabek raises his wand above his head. It is over. He will call for help, the teachers will find the three of them and end the tournament. It’s been over thirty years since the last time someone died during a task. The Hufflepuffs must be cursed.

Victor’s hand runs on Yuuri’s chest and tightens against the fabric of his sweater where his heart does not beat anymore.

Otabek puts his arm down and aims in front of him.

“Depulso!”

Victor is sent rolling in the dirt with a painful yelp and Otabek walks closer to the body, keeping his wand tight in his hand. When Yuuri saved him at the beginning of the task he was wearing a jersey similar to the ones Victor and himself are wearing.

“Riddikulus!”

The truth is that Otabek has no idea what he fears the most. He has never even thought about it. He has pointed his wand at the boggart without even considering that it would turn against him after the first spell.

And now he knows. He stands in front of another body. Thin and fragile. The delicate skin glimmers and the blond hair looks silver under the full moon. The green eyes are wide open but completely empty. No spark of life. No frown on his forehead. No pout on his lips.

It hits Otabek harder than he would have thought. He feels the pain grow in his chest, making is mind foggy and his arms weak. He cannot take his eyes off Yuri, and it becomes more real with very second that passes.

“Riddikulus!”

His younger sister’s dress is dirty with blood and mud. Her braids are undone and her hair is spread on the ground.

“Riddikulus!”

His older sister lies motionless, her face in a puddle. He clenches his teeth.

“Riddikulus!”

He does not take the time to look at his mother’s body.

“Riddikulus!”

The boggart finally dies with a loud “pop” that echoes in the night.

When the silence settles Otabek falls on his knees and gasps for air. He lets his wand roll in the grass to hide his face in his hands. Nothing prepared him for that. Magical creatures are terrifying, but this was too much. He tries to calm down, he tries to convince his heart that none of it was real, but after a whole minute he is still panting miserably and unable to shake the macabre images out of his mind.

“I need to find Yuuri.”

Otabek looks up. Victor is standing where he has landed after being separated from the boggart. With a weak nod Otabek watches Victor turn around to leave without thanking him. Otabek does not really care.

 

There are a few more minutes before he manages to stand up. He knows he is awfully vulnerable but his knees refuse to support his weight. When he gets up he walks aimlessly, turning at intersections without thinking, placing one foot on front of the other mechanically. After a while he hears a noise in the hedge next to him and jumps back. He sees a gray shadow move around the roots and, in a strange reflex, he points his wand and shouts “Riddikulus!”.

There is a yowl and a hiss, then a grumble he cannot understand.

“Putain mais quel idiot!” _Damn it what an idiot!_

Otabek opens wide eyes. Clearly, he has lost his mind and is hallucinating. Toulouse’s tail is tense and straight, his fur stands on end and his paws leave small prints in the dirt.

“Me? A boggart? What’s wrong with you?” he scolds.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m a cat, I go wherever the fuck I want.”

Otabek remains silent.

“You walked back to the entrance of the maze,” Toulouse explains. “The tent is just behind this wall, I smelled you. Came to say hi… see if you’re having fun… if you’re not becoming a werewolf…”

Still no words can find their way out of Otabek’s mouth.

“You need to walk east,” Toulouse adds seriously. “Don’t go too far north, you don’t want to meet the chimaera.”

Otabek stands still for a few seconds and then bends down, ignore the cat’s protests, and picks him up to hug him tightly against his chest. Toulouse claws at his arms but Otabek hide his nose in his fur anyway. It is soft and warm. It smells like Yuri’s dorm. When he loosens his embrace the cat jumps down and disappears swiftly under the hedge. Otabek’s heart swells. He knows Toulouse is going back to his owner and he will tell him that he is not dead, not even injured, just a little bit dirty. He smiles.

 

Following the direction of his wand Otabek runs again, his mind clear and back on track. He avoids a Red Cap and escapes a couple of Blast-Ended Skrewts. He struggles to repel a swarm of doxies, and walks several minutes with an Imp on his heels as the small being keeps dodging his spells and he cannot convince him to leave him alone. When he cannot stand the twangy voice and the lame puns anymore Otabek runs to lose it in the maze. It works nicely but when he looks over his shoulder to make sure he is not being followed Otabek trips and falls flat in the mud again. For a second he thinks he stumbled on a dead branch but the slimy feeling around his ankle makes him wince. The nose in a tuft of grass he shivers. Something cold and wet scratches the skin at the hem of his pants. He rolls to sit up and watches a scaly tail slither between his feet. His eyes follow the curves of the creature and it never seems to end. It grows longer and larger, it twists between the hedges, it completely blocks the way with the mere size of its body. The monster twitches and Otabek does the only thing he can think of to save his life. He closes his eyes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come and see me on [Tumblr](https://dontstopyurinow.tumblr.com/)!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TL;DR : Yuri cries.

Yuri squats and extends his arms to catch his cat. He has been pacing in the tent for hours since the beginning of the task.

“Did you see him? How is he? Is he ok? Toulouse, tell me!”

“He thought I was a boggart!” the cat growls.

“Was he injured?”

“No, just a few scratches… and a lot of mud.”

Toulouse hisses when Yuri tightens his embrace, pressing him against his chest and rubbing his nose in his fur. Yuri does not let go and so Toulouse claws at him to avoid suffocating. When he does not hear the usual string of swearwords and Yuri keeps cradling him tightly despite the red marks on his arms, Toulouse pauses.

“Yuri… Are you crying?”

Yuri sniffs loudly. “I have one of your hairs in my eye!” he croaks.

“I told you he was alright! I saw him! He’s fine!”

Yuri’s shoulders shake as he fights to repress his sobs. He gasps loudly to catch his breath and hides his red cheeks in Toulouse’s fur again.

“You’re getting me wet… Don’t blow your nose on me!”

Yuri lets his arms down and Toulouse falls on the ground. Without a word Yuri slumps on the bench and hides his face in his trembling hands. Toulouse jumps on his laps.

“You need to eat and sleep.”

“No shit,” Yuri mumbles as he wipes his cheek with the back of his hand.

“I’ll get Georgi…”

“No!” Yuri gasps, “I’m fine. Don’t tell Georgi.”

Toulouse curls up on Yuri’s laps and purrs.

“Go back with him,” Yuri whispers after a moment.

“What?”

“Go back, stay with him and help him.”

“There we go... I’ve slept on your bed for ten years and now you like him more than me. I could die in there!”

Yuri winces and his lower lips quivers. His lashes get wet again.

“Yuri, you know I can’t. He’ll be disqualified if they know he got help, and you could get Beauxbâtons in trouble…”

“Don’t get caught!”

“What could I even do? I have no power at all beside throwing up hairballs, you know it.”

Yuri has a bitter pout and remains silent.

“Come on,” Toulouse says as he jumps down, “go buy some snacks, I’m hungry too.”

 

 

Otabek counts the seconds he has left before his death. He knows he should raise his arm and send red sparkles, but he is absolutely unable to even get up on his feet. He is blind, and paralyzed by fear. His heart beats so fast in his chest that he can feel it in his throat and it makes him terribly sick. He will probably pass out very soon, and that is maybe the best option he has. Fainting right there before he has to feel the fangs of the basilisk impale his body and tear off his limbs.

The ground vibrates and he can hear the wet sound of the snake as it moves between the walls of the maze. It is very close, and it is coming for him. Otabek desperately crawls in the opposite direction but keeps bumping in the hedges and scratching his palms in the dirt.

“IT’S BLIND!”

Someone has screamed but Otabek is far from feeling concerned. He tries to get up but trips and starts crawling again. With each new second that passes he wonders how he is still alive.

He is suddenly brutally jostled, someone grabs his shoulders and shakes him aggressively.

“Otabek open your eyes! It’s blind! The basilisk is blind!”

Is it Yuuri’s voice? Maybe. Is it a new trap? Probably. He does not have time to think before Yuuri pulls on his arm and starts running. He opens his eyes despite himself to be able to follow Yuuri, and realizes Victor is also at their side. They run through the maze as fast as they can, and as they pass a perpendicular alley, they catch a glimpse of a pale blue light in the dark night. In the second they need to understand what they just saw, the basilisk is on them and they have to keep running. When they arrive in a dead end, they know they cannot avoid the fight.

“VICTOR!” Yuuri shouts.

“I KNOW! But I can’t hold it more than a few seconds!”

Victor stops dead and turns to face the giant snake, and Otabek almost believes he decided to offer himself as a bait to let Yuuri escape.

He cannot help but look at the eyes of the creature. They are two dark wounds, as if they had been pierced by a weapon. They do not bleed, they look like old scabs, and Otabek guesses the basilisk was blind before being brought into the maze.

Victor raises his arms, hands open in front of him, and takes a deep breath. There is something in Otabek’s guts that tells him to take the opportunity and run, but he cannot stop watching when Victor closes his eyes and the basilisk stops moving. It looks like Victor is doing nothing but focusing, and yet there is a distinct shift in the atmosphere. It is like a blurry bubble, a slight change in the air that traps the basilisk in a confused dizzy state. The creature is blind, and yet Victor still manages to influence it. Otabek suddenly hopes Victor never remembers who punched him after the Yule ball.

“SECTUMSEMPRA!”

Otabek raises him arms to protect his face as a deep gash appears in the scales of the snake on the side of its head, and a gush of black blood flows out. He turns to see Yuuri wield his wand like a sword, and shudders when he wonders what kind of books the Hufflepuff has found in the library, and how many other terrifying spells he can perform. Otabek decides he needs to stay on good terms with the couple.

Victor clenches his jaw and quivers under the effort. He gasps, lets his arms down, and staggers as the beast comes out of its bewitchment. The snake opens a wide mouth and dives toward him.

“IMPEDIMENTA!” Otabek screams, but it barely slows down the basilisk, and Victor is still tottering weakly under its giant fangs.

Yuuri runs and casts just about every spell he knows, but he is too far behind. Otabek jumps and pushes Victor out of the way with all his strength. The jaw of the snake clacks so close to his side that Otabek can see the injured black holes of its eyes and feel the cold scales of its skin against his waist. He jumps back and Yuuri takes advantage of the position of the snake, close enough to the ground, to cast a new cutting curse between its eyes.

There is a bloodcurdling noise as the basilisk stretches and arches in pain. Victor takes the occasion to repeat Yuuri’s curse toward the exposed underside of the snake, and Yuuri creates a massive ball of fire around its head.

When the fire vanishes, the basilisk stays still a few seconds in the air, before falling heavily on the ground in a cloud of dust and dirt. They watch it tensely, looking for the slightest movement, ready to attack again. The dust settles, and the beast remains motionless in a pool of thick blood.

They all pant heavily, bent over and clenching at their knees, trying to catch their breath as the silence falls over the maze.

“Fuck, that was crazy,” Yuuri whispers.

“I thought we were all going to die,” Victor adds as he straightens up.

“Me too…”

“Let’s go back to the trophy, we can…”

But Victor stops when he sees that Yuuri is not looking at him but behind him.

“Otabek?”

Otabek does not answer, he is still bent forward, he keeps his head down, his hair falling in front of his forehead and leaving his eyes in the shadow.

“Otabek?”

Otabek’s fingers tighten briefly on his thighs, and he shakes and falls on his knees. Yuuri runs up to him and catches him just before he collapses on the ground.

Yuuri has a quiver and slowly raises his hand in front of his eyes. It is wet and warm, dark and shiny under the moonlight, covered in blood.

Otabek cannot find the courage to look down. He knew the snake got too close. He understood it only a second after pushing Victor out of the way. He feels it on his side, his shirt sticks to his skin and hot drops run down his hip. It burns so much where the flesh has been ripped that he is on the verge of passing out. His teeth are clenched and with each breath he takes he gets a new jolt of pain that makes him see white. When he looks up at Yuuri he knows he does not need to say anything. The wound could be healed but the venom already runs in his veins.

Victor is the first to react. He bends to pick up Otabek and nods at Yuuri.

“Hold my arm and take the cup, we’ll all be sent back to our starting point.”

“You take it, I’ll send sparkles to call for help,” Yuuri says immediately.

Victor nods down at Otabek.

“He had already helped me once before this, and you told me you helped him twice, you’re the only one who made it through this alone. Take it, Yuuri.”

Otabek cannot help a broken whimper of pain and Yuuri bites his lips.

“I don’t deserve it. You did better than me in the first task and he did better than me in the second task.”

“If we call for help we’ll have to wait and he’ll die here! The sooner you take it, the sooner he gets help!”

Yuuri looks back and forth at Victor and Otabek, gaping and unable to take a decision. Victor’s tone changes.

“Yuuri, listen to me. Do it for me. Win the tournament for me. You said you would.”

Otabek lets out a short hiss between his teeth and Yuuri finally nods.

They jog back to the alley where they saw the blue halo earlier. One hand on Victor’s shoulder, Yuuri extends his other arm and grab the handle of the trophy. As soon as his fingers brush the bright metal, they all get transported out of the maze.

It is like a hook in his belly button. No matter how mentally ready he was to use the portkey, Otabek still feels extremely sick at the blurry motion. Victor cannot help but fall heavily on his knees when the ground materializes under his feet, he tries not to move Otabek too much, but the landing is still very rough.

There is a second of stunned silence in the stadium before Yuuri gets up, dusts off his knees, and the crowd sees the blue halo of the trophy in his hand.

It is a true explosion of screams and shouts. Every Hogwarts student cheers as loud as they can and jumps from their seats. They drown the disappointed groans of the other schools and hug each other in a pure moment of bliss and excitement.

And yet the atmosphere changes quickly. Yuuri throws the trophy on the ground like it is a cursed artifact, and runs the few feet that separate him from Victor and Otabek since their fall. The happy cheers fade when the shrieks of the Dumstrang students echo in the arena. Everybody’s attention shifts from the shining trophy to the dark red stain on Otabek’s side.

Otabek can see a lot of people around him but cannot register everything. When Victor tells the mediwizards what has happened they drop their first aid kit and look at the teachers helplessly. Otabek tries to sit up but gets very dizzy. For a second he wishes his family had traveled for the last task, but then he is glad his father is not here to see him fail so miserably, and his mother does not have to watch her only son die. She will get an owl soon enough.

He sees Toulouse jump over his legs and lick his hand. There is some movement in the crowd and people protest, someone swears, and several adults run to escape a swarm of hundreds of tiny blue birds.

Yuri’s blond hair appears and soon Otabek can feel his small hands on his cheeks as Yuri kneels beside him.

“Damn it Beka, you fucked up again!”

“Kind of…” Otabek whispers.

“Look at you…”

Yuri looks down at the bleeding wound but Otabek does not. He cannot look away from Yuri, his messy hair, his pointy nose. His vision gets blurry and he blinks several times.

“They’ll heal you, I know they can…”

“Yuri... I’m sorry.”

Otabek smiles weakly but it takes him all the efforts in the world not to fall asleep. He wants to keep his eyes open and look at Yuri again, watch how his cheekbones catch the light, and see his green eyes look back. He feels incredibly lucky he ever had the chance to know what his lips taste like. He closes his eyelids for a second to try and clear his mind, but he struggles to open them again. It seems so comfortable to simply let go, fall deeper into the drowsiness until he cannot feel the pain anymore.

He blinks again and he sees colors, but it is too blurry now. He feels Yuri’s fingers in his hair, so soft and delicate, he just want to focus on his touch and forget about everything else. Yuri presses his nose against Otabek’s temple and Otabek can hear him whisper broken words between two sobs.

“Beka, you have to stay with me. You have to. You need to come home with me this summer and meet my Grandpa.”

He sniffs and brushes Otabek’s cheek.

“We’ll take the train under the sea, we’ll stop in Paris like fucking tourists. We’ll go south, by the ocean, where it’s too hot and it reeks of pines trees. We’ll surf with the muggles and get wasted on cheap wine.”

He bites his lip hard but falls apart and lets hot tears roll on Otabek’s face as he rests his forehead against his.

“Beka putain tu peux pas m’faire ça, j’t’ai dit qu’t’avais pas le droit… ” _Beka damn it you can’t do this to me, I told you you didn’t have the right…_

On the side Victor takes a step toward Yuri, but Yuuri catches his wrist and pulls him back.

The teachers whisper tensely but no one dares moving. The whole stadium watches how Yuri’s tiny body shake, how his hands tremble on Otabek’s face and how he struggles to breath as he cries.

The students from Dumstrang and Beauxbâtons look at each other with a strange feeling of guilt. How long has it been since their champion fell in love with a student from another school? How many months have they lived with them without paying attention? Otabek’s friends and the Beauxbâtons girls gape at the scene as they understand how far from the truth they have been. Georgi cries on Mila’s shoulder and she pats his back gently. The Hogwarts students have stopped celebrating, the Slytherins silently recognize the blond boy that sometimes stayed in their common room. Yuuri holds Victor close against him as they both look down at the third champion, knowing too well they could have been the ones to play the scene.

 

There is a change in the weather. It is not a breeze in the clouds, not a drop of rain in the night. It is a terribly harrowing lament, a mystic melody that resonates in the stadium as the crowd falls silent to listen. No one knows where it comes from, but everybody can hear it. The students gasp when someone points at a large bird up in the dark sky. It flies in circles over the maze like a giant vulture. Very slowly, it descends and lands in the dust.

Toulouse pushes Yuri’s elbow with his nose and paws at his side, but Yuri does not let go. He holds Otabek so tight his arms hurt, his head pressed in his shoulder, soaking his shirt with tears.

“Yuri, look.”

“Va-t’en Toulouse, laisse-moi tranquille…” _Go away Toulouse, leave me alone…_

“Regarde.” _Look._

Toulouse nibbles at Yuri’s hand, and Yuri winces and finally looks up. He flinches when he sees the large bird, so very close to his face. Yuri watches him bend over Otabek and tilt his head to the side. The phoenix’s eyes are small and black, shiny like polished stones. The bird blinks and a crystal tear rolls down his red feathers. He lowers his head and as he cries, new pearly drops fall on Otabek’s wound.

Yuri cannot look away as it slowly heals, the blood dries and the skin pales, losing its scarlet shade to become a smooth, white a scar that already looks several months old. His cat watches by his side, not less fascinated. The silence around them is almost religious.

When the phoenix lifts his head again, Toulouse sniffs Otabek’s healed wound suspiciously, and hops on his stomach. There is a loud groan of pain and Yuri jumps with a start. Otabek roughly pushes the cat away with a swing of the arm and has a hoarse sigh.

Before he can look up, Yuri throws himself at him and they roll in the dirt. The air is chased out of Otabek’s lungs and he hisses painfully between his teeth, but when he manages to catch his breath, he sneaks an arm around Yuri and holds him tight again his chest. He hides his face in his blond hair and presses his nose in his neck.

Otabek does not hear the crowd roar in the arena. He does not notice the ridiculous sigh of relief of the teachers, the little dance Yuuri and Victor do as they jump together, the fanfare that starts to play, and the pictures that are taken.

Yuri’s lips are wet with tears but so hot against his own, he cannot think about anything else. Their noses brush when Yuri turns his head and opens his mouth. He kisses with fervor and abandon, holding Otabek’s face between his hands and forgetting to breath. Otabek kisses back and Yuri melts against his chest.

It is unbelievably liberating. Nothing feels better than this moment, where Otabek realizes he is free from the tournament. He did not win, but only matter that he will not risk his life in crazy tasks again, he will no longer have to fight to represent his school, he will not hide to kiss Yuri anymore. He runs a hand in Yuri’s hair and breaks the kiss to look into his eyes, forehead against forehead as they are both out of breath.

There is a wolf-whistle in one of the stands and Yuri pulls away. Otabek watches him hide his burning cheeks behind his hair and finds it particularly unfair that his own flushed face has to be exposed for everyone to see. The students laugh when he scratches the back of his head sheepishly.

Lucky for him, his embarrassment in short lived. The mediwizards come to help him up and carry him to the infirmary. Yuri tries all he can to follow him but the teachers who were attacked by his birds do not get fooled twice. He stands aside and pouts as he waits for everybody to clear the way. The closing ceremony is scheduled two days later in the early afternoon.

Yuri watches the herbology teacher stay behind when his colleagues leave. He walks up to the phoenix and he is allowed to brush his head gently before the bird opens his wide wings and flies off.

“Sir,” Yuri asks, “the bird, do you know him?”

“Not really. I’ve seen him here before.”

“It’s rare.”

The old teacher has one of those sighs only elderly persons can have, heavy with nostalgia of another time.

“Fawkes has remained loyal to his previous master. Albus Dumbledore was buried here, and his portrait can still be consulted. He held Hogwarts dear in his heart and his bird didn’t forget it after his death. He’s free, he has no owner, but he’s always welcome in the headmaster’s office. He often comes back when he knows he’s about to die and needs a safe place to be reborn. We have no power over him, but someone once told me he was always there when they needed him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come and see me on [Tumbr](https://dontstopyurinow.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Thank you for over 1000 hits on this story!
> 
> PS (21/12/2017): there will definitely be a last chapter to this or maybe two, it's currently on hold until I finish Snow. I'm sorry to have you wait but I'm so obsessed with the other story I'd rather be honest. Thank you for your patience <3


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